Brandon Maurer was a in a regular small city in his thirties who had it good. In general appearance he was handsome if nothing to write home about, he was a bit on the tall side but reasonably fit, working out regularly and a reasonably handsome head with brown hair. He'd gone through private schools, studied business in university, was handed an executive job in the family property firm with a six figure salary and his own house by age 25. He had a cohort of friends that he took out on long vacations and had a couple of girlfriends and a lot of one night stands. As far as Rich fools who had the world handed to them on a plate went, there were definitely worse specimens and he was far from Vile. He was however rather self centered, a show off and often dismissive of those without his good luck.
One night, having taken a couple of Korean business associates out for Dinner and drinks Brandon crashed into bed thinking of a trip to Cancun he had coming up next month. He drifted to sleep thinking of Jet Skis, Sunshine and Cool Drinks on Warm Nights in open air bars. All of which he'd write off.
Brandon woke up to the sound of rain on the window, this was normal and gradually he opened his eyes. The first thing that he noticed was off was the walls. His bedroom had bronze collared walls with neoclassical finishes in the corners. This one was white as snow with corners which were neatly and geometrically rounded off. That was enough to shock his mind awake as he took in his enviroment. In place of his wooden bed stand, there was a stark white plastic one. His autographed football memorabilia was nowhere to be seen, the bed was not his bed, the dimensions were all wrong and everything was minimalist and either (in descending order of prominence) white, grey, pink or black. As he got to his feet, he noticed more was off as he brought his right hand into view. It was slender with long dextrous fingers ending in glossy electric pink nails with flawless, hairless porcelain white skin on the end of toned but slender arm. It was in truth not a bad hand, in fact it was rather attractive. But it got was definitely not Brandon Maurer's. Nor was it's mirror image on his left. He took in his legs and in horror what was between them and a probing hand found that under a pair of pants he was a she.
She soon found her way into a bathroom and took herself in. What stood in the mirror was an athletically built Asian woman done in alabaster in black underpants. The only signs of color on her were a few areas of pink. Magenta nails, hot pink lips, pink eyes, pink eyeshadow and a short bob of magenta hair. After a quick disrobing she added to that a pink vulva and nipples. It was a rather extreme look, though not unattractive, even if she didn't have a naval. Even so, finding yourself as another sex AND one with such an extreme look was disconcerting.
Exploration of the room did not reveal much. There was a bedroom, bathroom and a small living room with a small couch, TV and a desk with a computer with a door. All done in an austere modernist design. Outside she could see that she was in a high rise, one of several identical ones with what looked like identical flats. Rain obscured the ground, but she could see trolley cars. As that happened, words scrolled across her vision.
'Good Morning Aoi (MassWBW RWW-8227)
7:30, 14/2/62 AS, Tuesday
Designated Rest Day
Daily schedule clear
Local weather: Thunderstorm warming, High 20, Low 14, western wind 35 kph, humidity 60%
Unity in Perfection"
With a little practice, she found that she could repeat the message scroll.
"Well that was weird." She said in a rather pretty voice.
Almost as weird as the lack of a kitchen in this joint, her stomach was growling. She got into the dressers and the closet he found (among other things) a pair of glossy black leggings, a pink low cut top, a pair of boots without heels and a black pink lined faux leather jacket. Not what he'd be caught dead in under normal circumstances, but it'd would do.
As she left her room into a hallway, she smelt a set of aromas on the air. Most of these she could not make out beyond that of tea, but they smelt good and her stomach was rumbling. She soon found herself in what looked like a cafeteria with four tables. She collected a cinnamon bun, a slice of toast with jam, a couple rashers of bacon and a cup of hot water and a teabag. Just before she left, she heard a voice which she'd recently become familiar with.
"Good Morning Aoi."
Brandon looked looked up over the counter and saw a woman. She was wearing a chef's uniform and had in silicone gloved hand a baking sheet loaded with six hot cinnamon rolls, but beyond that the alabaster complexion with pink highlights and bob were all identical to Brandons' new one. As was her voice.
"Good morning...to you to." Brandon stammered out, looking for something to fill the void. "Uh, how do you pay for this?"
To Brandon's surprise Aoi giggled "Oh it's free. And just the way we like them."
Brandon grinned sheepishly and slunk off tray in hand. As weird as it was, the food was good. But as she ate, she heard more footsteps, then some conversation from the cafeteria and then a tray was set down beside her on her left. "Bit early to be up sis" The same voice said. Brandon looked up and saw to her side saw the same face, if this time dressed in a labcoat.
"Yeah," said the same voice to her "and it's one of your rest days and your half way through breakfast." To her right sat another duplicate, this time dressed in a maid uniform.
Brandon thought quickly "A bird crashed into my bedroom window, woke me up and I could not get back to sleep."
"Damn shame" Another duplicate said as she sat down, this one dressed in a mechanic's uniform.
"Well you don't have to clean it up." Said the one in a jumpsuit.
"Don't worry," Brandon interjected "I think it survived and flew away".
"Well that's a relief."
"Well sister..." said the same voice in a breathy tone "...being woken up like that's such a bother on a rest day." Brandon looked up and saw a new duplicate arrive. This one in a black and fuscha corset dress and long gloves and a look in her eyes. She extended a gloved hand and lightly caressed Brandon's fingertips. "I feel Aoi here might need some special attention to make the most of it."
"Well um...thank you." Brandon Stuttered. The other Aois seated began to snicker. "Y...you are rather pretty." That got them laughing and table slapping.
"I'm not just pretty, I'm Perfect." The corset dressed one said "Don't be jealous, so are you and everyone else. Best part of Standardization if you as me. But today I've been designated a Love Agent, I can make your synapses sing with sexual symphony."
"...um..." Brandon stuttered.
"Yes, I know. Love Agent is an intimidating persona-set. I've coward before her boots before submitting just as I stand in them. But it only comes up once every few months and when it does we have a duty to deliver satisfaction, both to others and for myself."
"Don't worry Aoi" another Aoi soothingly said to Brandon "She's just performing a function to society and she'll only act with her consent. We've all been Love Agents before, she'll be over it by midnight when she gets her next job. She's not like some feral Pre-Aoi human."
"Biotechs..." The Love Agent snorted "...all problem solving and compassion with no fun, at least until you get them under the boot. Most overrated persona type, even if you do make perfect new playthings."
"Perhaps she would enjoy a diversion that's more...refined." an new Aoi said, dressed in a fine silk kimono and a fuscha Nihongami wig "A proper tea ceremony to stimulate this one's mind and cleanse this one's woes."
The Love Agent smirked at this, a friendly rivalry between the two persona types had been programmed in since the beginning. "Maybe we could have one this evening as a way to cleanse the palette after I am done with her, Tea Girl."
All of which was a bit to much for Brandon. With that she ran back to her room and heaved. This whole place was surreal. She slunk to the TV and crashed to watch it. But as she scrolled through the channels, what was said in the cafeteria was confirmed. Everyone on every station had the same alabaster face, same hair, same voice. People were mass produced in Biotech Centers and programmed from a standardized biological and neural template, which could have uploaded onto them data packs to assume any role their society required. In this world, Mankind was no more. There was only Aoi.